


Fortune's Fool

by germanic



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Final Fantasy: Kingsglaive
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, With some changes in the name of plot.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-27 04:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12573936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/germanic/pseuds/germanic
Summary: Despite his agreement with the old kings to give his life for a brief use of the ring's power, Nyx Ulric finds that the kings do not come to collect. Instead, he finds himself wounded, but alive in the ruins of Insomnia with no explanation as to why he has been spared.Meanwhile, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret finds her destiny rewritten as she is directed to aid a new king who is prophesied to bring about a new beginning, finishing what Noctis began. When she finally finds this new king, however, she is confronted with a familiar face.---Based upon the illustrations and notes of annaoi and loveiscosmicsin on tumblr:http://annaoi.tumblr.com/post/156626981333/king-nyx-and-queen-lunafreya-based-on-my





	1. Prologue - Nyx

When day broke, Nyx Ulric awaited the death he was promised. It had been part of the bargain, after all--power in exchange for his life.

For that brief moment, magic had returned to him. He had felt it deep in his bones, appreciating it after its absence. After having it stripped from him, he felt more like himself when the ring returned the magic of the Lucian kings to him. In that moment, everything had felt right. He could warp again, taunting and tormenting his enemy as he appeared from here to there in the blink of an eye. He could fight as he had been trained to, in the way he was used to, in the way he had always been good at.

In that moment, he could be _useful_.

And how he loved to be useful, to be the hero that everyone called him.

Agreeing to their terms had been easy because it was no different than being a part of the Kingsglaive. With each battle he fought as a Glaive, he had always had to accept the inevitability of death. While he might survive this battle, the next might prove his last. He was called a hero, not an immortal. Death would come to him as easy as it would come to any other. So when power was offered at the cost of his life, he had accepted.

He wondered if they had been taken aback by him, by his willingness to die to taste the power of the Ring of the Lucii. Of course, there must have been others who would trade their life for a little power, to feel such old magic flow through their veins and be at their beck and call. But, he doubted that they had seen the toll of the Ring firsthand. It had seemed to weigh heavily on King Regis, taking its toll on him over the years.

But what did that matter?

What did his life matter?

He had not valued his own life so highly that it required much debate. As he saw it, it was a small sacrifice for the greater good. If his actions would provide a better future for others, then who was he to argue? He understood his own worth, knowing that what made him valuable had nothing to do with himself at all. He had been important because he could command a power that was not his own--that had never been his own--better than those around him. He was well-regarded for his ability to use the power given to him, not because of himself. Without the magic granted by King Regis, he was nothing. He was worthless without the king's magic. If he had not already known that before, then it had been painfully obvious in the moments between the king's death and his being deemed worthy by the old Lucian kings.

Sitting amidst the smoke and ruin of Insomnia, he waited for his death without fear, as a good soldier should.

Yet, it did not come.

The sun climbed higher into the sky and Nyx found himself still waiting. The terms of his agreement had been clear, that with the new morning he would find himself charged for the ring’s power, that his debt would be collected and he would cease to exist. There had been no additional clauses, no contingencies that should he prove particularly skilled that he might be granted an extension on his life. Instead, it had been quite a simple exchange. The fact that he was still alive despite daybreak having come and gone was surprising.

In fact, he was almost insulted to be still waiting.

In the time that he waited there, he reviewed the agreement. They had been clear in when the magic of the ring would leave him, when his life would be forfeit. With such a fixed period of time, he had sent Lunafreya away and been unrelenting in battle. He had not been able to afford to make mistakes because, for as worthy as he might have been, there was only a night during which to act. He had acted accordingly to the parameters set before him.

When it was midday, Nyx finally gave up.

He refused to wait any longer for a death that never seemed to come in a city that was not his own. If death wanted him, it would find him in the land of his birth. He would die there as was right and fitting, not in a land where he was considered a foreigner and looked down upon. He would die in the land that was his first home--

Because he did not doubt that death would come. He should have known that they would prolong his suffering like this, luring him into thinking that by being worthy, he might escape a fate like death. That it had all only been a test to see how much he truly wanted the power of the Ring of the Lucii and by sacrificing himself he had proven himself worthy of living. Others might have been fooled by this brief showing of mercy, but not him. He knew that death was inevitable, that it would strike in the moment he was most vulnerable, self-assured in his survival.

And, yet, he refused to wait for it.

If they would wait to strike him down now, then he would take advantage of the delay.

Wounded and scarred, Nyx began his journey to Galahd.


	2. Prologue - Luna

In the end, Luna found herself adrift in a sea of memory and prophecy. 

It was a world that she knew well, having found her dreams occupied with memories of her own and memories bestowed upon her. This, she had always been told, was part of being an oracle.

As well as having the gods speak in her ear, tell her riddles about the future, her dreams were polluted with memories not of her own making. In between the events that she could clearly recall--the moments when Ravus had humored her as a little girl and participated in her imaginary games--there were ones she was unfamiliar with, that felt as though they belonged to someone else.

It was in these false memories that she had first met Noctis, the future king she was destined to help. In these dreams, he had been a king who had needed her help, who depended upon her. It had reminded her of a fairytale, a real one, in which she would play a part. All of these dreams mingled with prophecies had set her expectations high, so that when she truly met Noctis, she had been disappointed.

Their formal meeting had felt so strange to her, far different than the dreams gifted to her. Rather than a formidable king, she was confronted with a boy. A boy who was really no different than herself. And, yet, he would be so much more than her. It was her duty to see that he achieved all that he was meant to, just as it was his to be the destined king. They had both been set upon predetermined paths, assigned their fates before birth without consideration as to what they might want when they were old enough to know.

And now, she thought, her path had come to an end.

She had done her duty, served her part in Noctis’s story. Now removed from his story, she was left in a state of knowing and wondering about Noctis’s fate. While she knew what had been told to her in whispers, she also knew that the gods did not tell her everything.

The death of Regis had come as a shock, never directly foretold in any of her prophesies. And, yet, she had known that death would be a constant companion in this story, had seen it both in her dreams and firsthand. it was only natural, then, that it would strike down the king, setting Noctis on his path to be the next king.

Her own death should not have been a surprise either. She had not been the heroine of this story, no matter how many times she had pretended to be in her youth. She had always been an expendable companion in Noctis’s story, this had been her destiny, the duty to which she was bound by fate.

And while his story continued, hers ended.

She wondered if this was what death was--because how could she have survived that final blow?--where eternal refuge was found in the familiar. Rather than complete darkness, she was caught in her realm of prophecy and dream, the place where gods spoke to her and gave her gleams of the future.

And, yet, these dreams were not the old, familiar ones which she had been told over and over. The ones she found herself faced with here were new, fresh promises of a future that Lunafreya had never previously been privy to.

 _I don’t understand_ she asked the nothingness.

Where were the stories of old, the time worn dreams that she had memorized over the years? Where were the whispers of Noctis’s future and fate?

_There is to be another, a new king._

Those words echoed in her current state and Lunafreya found herself frowning at them. What about Noctis? He was supposed to be the one, the future king who brought about the purge. He was the one who was chosen, the true king--

 _Of the Lucian line,_ the voice echoed. _And that line has come to an end._

A catch, Lunafreya thought, there was always a catch. Where gods were concerned, one could never assume anything. 

 _Who is this new king_ she asked.

_He will be a champion of the people, a hero king. To finish what the Lucian king began._

Lunafreya dwelled on this, a sudden sadness overtaking her. As they both had their fates decided, there had been a sense of kinship between them, of understanding that they could not find elsewhere. Noctis, then, had become her closest friend, the only one who could comprehend what it meant to have no control of their own fate. They could understand the other's burden more than those around them. While she would understand both of their destinies better than he ever could, he, at least, understood what it meant to have the gods place a weight upon them that could not be shaken off. 

She had always known Noctis’s fate would not be a favorable one. By being chosen, he had been sentenced to death. A little part of her had hoped that this particular fate could be rewritten, that Noctis could be saved. This, however, sealed Noctis’s fate. He would not be saved, she knew, nothing could change what the gods had set into motion. The thought left a bitter taste in Lunafreya’s mouth. They were nothing but playthings to the gods, easily used and tossed aside to be replaced with another. The gods gave them no second thought because what were they to gods? 

 _And what of me_ Lunafreya asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Her story had ended, her role played out. She had nothing more to contribute and, yet, the gods bothered to tell her of this new future. It felt as though they were taunting her with all of this.

 _You, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, will aid this new king_.

She wanted to argue, _but I am dead_ , thinking that the gods had overlooked such an important detail.

_Not dead, only sleeping._


	3. Chapter 1

Lunafreya bolted upright, the words of the gods still ringing in her ears.  _A new king, a warrior king, a hero king_. Their words became a chant, a mantra by which to direct her.

She found herself so focused on what she had seen and heard that she almost missed the commotion that followed her waking.

Almost.

As she attempted to process her visions and determine how to act upon them, there was a flurry of activity around her. A woman who Lunafreya did not recognize rushed to her side and began asking her questions while checking her vital signs. The sudden invasion set Lunafreya on the defensive so that when she attempted to grab her wrist, Lunafreya pulled back. She found herself fighting the entire process, ignoring what was asked of her while demanding to know exactly what was going on.

When she raised her voice loud enough, everyone stopped, a silence falling upon the room. The woman at her side, the one that Luna still did not recognize, opened and closed her mouth several times before finally speaking. 

“My Lady, you have been...unconscious,” she said, settling on that word to describe Lunafreya’s condition. “for quite some time.”

“How long?” Lunafreya asked. 

“It has been a long time, so much has changed.”

The woman’s insistence on remaining vague was beginning to irritate Luna. How difficult could it be to answer with a number? Had it been weeks? Months? It certainly could not have been years, she would have felt that--

Wouldn’t she have?

“How long?”

Her question was ignored and they answered the one she had not asked. 

Whereas her question was simple and required only a number, they told her a story. Lunafreya humored their decision, choosing to listen rather than insist upon a basic answer, believing she would still get her answer.

Lunafreya had been found unconscious after the battle, barely breathing, but alive. Noctis had been in a battered state, but his wellbeing had been handled by his traveling companions. Lunafreya, however, had been temporarily lost, assumed dead with her body missing. So when she was found, Noctis and his companions had already moved on to continue the fight.

Despite having been found alive, the original reports were never corrected per Ravus’s orders. Instead, she was quietly spirited back to Tenebrae where her condition was monitored by those deemed loyal to Tenebrae and the royal family. There she had remained, trapped in a dreaming state, while the world around her changed and shifted.

They tried to break the changes to her delicately, trying to ease her into the heartbreak that Lunafreya knew already to anticipate. Her dreams and visions had alluded to Noctis’s death, she did not need to have the topic danced around by people who she did not know.

Knowing, however, did not make it any easier to hear.

They told her of Noctis first, talking about the valiant efforts of the young king. They were almost poetic when they spoke of him and how he had been in every way, the true king. He had saved them from the scourge, had saved them all from the curse set upon them by the gods. Saving them, however, had come at the cost of his life. Defeating Ardyn Izunia had come at the cost of the young king’s life and his loss had left a void which had been quickly taken advantage of. Without a future king, the world had plunged into a state of disorder and chaos, worse than before. Those who could, placed themselves into positions of power and quarreled amongst themselves to maintain these new places. In the ensuing struggle, the people suffered. Any sense of hope had been lost as it had been carried by the oracle and the future king.

She thought this the last and worst of their story, but there was more. There was always more.

They told her of Ravus next. Unlike Noctis, they talked of him in imprecise terms. He was not given the same detail as Noctis whose heroics and bravery had been spoken of with a reverence. While they alluded to his loss having consequences for Tenebrae, they refused to disclose details.

Lunafreya found their omissions worrying, knowing there must have been some truth that they refused to disclose. She feared what it might have been, remembering how he had tried to command the Ring of the Lucii, how he had failed. She knew her brother well enough to know his faults, to know where he went wrong, but he had been her brother nonetheless.

And for that reason, she found herself hurting at his loss.

In the end, they never did answer how long she had been asleep.

In the end, she did not care.

She found herself ordering them away, despite their protests that she needed to be monitored. She wanted a moment to mourn, a chance to be left alone with her own thoughts in which she could digest everything thrown at her. They refused to relent, however, insisting upon her health.

It was not until she commanded them to leave, her voice cracking as she raised it above the din, trying to maintain her composure. Only then did they leave, disappearing from the room until she was left alone.

Once alone, Lunafreya tried to make sense of the world she found herself in. What she thought she knew was only a fraction of what had actually happened. While she had known about Noctis, she had not known of Ravus. While she had known about the ending of one struggle, she had not expected there to be yet another brought forward.

Naively, she had hoped for some semblance of peace. That in death and loss, there could be some spot of happiness. Instead, there was only more ruin and struggle.

She mourned that loss of hope, just as she mourned Ravus and Noctis. For the first time, she allowed herself to cry. Her tears, however, were not only for Ravus and Noctis, but for Nyx, for Regis, for Crowe. She allotted herself this moment to remember all those who had died, who she had forgone mourning in the name of duty and fulfilling her destiny.

There would be no time after this to properly grieve, as the gods had already assigned her a new destiny, refusing to allow her a reprieve from the burden of duty.

And this time, she thought, there would be no help.

She had lost her friends. All those closest to her were gone, it seemed, and in their place were only strangers. The people who had been around her when she had been at her most vulnerable had all been strangers that she could not name or place. While some of them may have been part of her life before, they had not been her confidantes, her allies.

For the first time Lunafreya felt completely alone.


	4. Chapter 2

They waited to announce her survival.

Lunafreya had decided they should maintain the secret of her survival, failing to mention, that she intended to do so because she was not entirely sure what she should do. For the sake of her supporters--those who had protected and defended her in times of complete uncertainty--she maintained an air of confidence. She wanted to appear strong, certain in her decisions, despite feeling nothing of the sort.

While Lunafreya had always relied upon her duty to dictate her actions and decisions, she found it did not offer the same comfort this time. Instead, it placed a decision before her.

Did she do as the gods instructed and seek out their new, anointed king? Or, did she forgo finding him until after she had secured Tenebrae?

Both seemingly required her immediate attention, but both could not be done simultaneously. She was instead forced to pick one and let the other sit until the time came that she could fully devote herself to it. And, yet, neither was in a place where it could comfortably sit and wait for her time and attention.

Instead, they each demanded that she focus on them immediately. 

Tenebrae was in a precarious position, still technically under the rule of Niflheim, but now without any clear ruler. Ravus’s death had left a vacancy in power that had not been handled well, allowing the country to stagnate. As those around her reminded her, Tenebrae needed its lost princess more than ever.

To take on that role, however, meant ignoring the directive of the gods. The visions had not relented since her awakening and their call for the new promised king had become a steady chant that she could not ignore. She suspected it would subside when she answered its calling and took up their mission. Only then, they might let her rest without hearing the same constant chant.

The demands of each left Lunafreya at a standstill, unable to choose either, unable to ignore either. She found herself floundering, trying to find a way that she could possibly balance the two. It was a series of mental gymnastics that left her feeling even more helpless. After a week of trying to determine the best path, a sense of failure had rooted deep in Lunafreya and, with her previous feelings of loneliness, she was left at a loss.

There was some comfort to be found, however. Gentiana returned to grace Lunafreya with her presence and she took advantage of the woman’s reappearance to seek some kind of advice. After pouring out the crux of her problem and the back and forths of each side, she ended with a quiet, “I do not know what to do.”

The woman had looked unphased at Lunafreya’s sad little plea. “What do you think you should do?”

“I am the oracle, I should find the new prophesied king. If the visions are true, then he will restore balance.”

“Then do that.”

“But Tenebrae needs me, I am a princess--” Lunafreya stopped mid-sentence, knowing that she had misspoken. She was no longer a princess, she was a queen like her mother before her. “They need me. Someone needs to restore stability, now, more than ever. We have been afforded an opportunity to take back control of Tenebrae, we cannot let that opportunity go to waste.”

“Then you should do that.”

“But I cannot do both,” Lunafreya argued back. “I cannot serve Tenebrae properly if I am off looking for a new king, just as I cannot fulfill my destiny if I put the people of Tenebrae first.”

“Can you not?”

“How could I? Tenebrae needs a queen here, not off wandering around being an oracle elsewhere. I cannot possibly effective to Tenebrae in the field. And I cannot possibly be serving the gods if I am still here.”

Because she knew well enough from the faint dreams and visions that the future king was not here. Instead, he was in another land that she was not entirely familiar with. He was far away, somewhere else, and would require her seeking him out. If she were fortunate, the difficulty would only lie with finding him. If she were not, there would be the added difficulty of convincing him of his destiny and the duty attached to such a destiny.

“You are thinking too literally. Consider the situation differently and then you find that the answer is easier than you think.”

Lunafreya frowned at the statement, finding no immediate comfort in it. “What should I do?” She asked again, hoping that this time Gentiana would answer simply and direct her on which path to take.

“You already know the answer to that,” Gentiana said, smiling this time. “You’re only afraid to actually do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for all of your positive feedback--every kudos and every comment is greatly appreciated. I hope that the direction that I take this story doesn't disappoint you and that you'll continue to enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it.


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